Mary Ann Mettrick (1846-1880?)
Mary Ann Mettrick was one of the 1852 Flood Orphans.
In the early hours of 5 February, the Bilberry Reservoir embankment failed, unleashing a torrent of water down the Holme Valley. Due to its location, the houses on Water Street took the full force of the flood. Mary Ann's half-brother James survived and provided the following statements to newspaper reporters:
I am 21 years of age, and lived with my father and mother. There were twelve of us in the house on Wednesday night when the flood broke in upon us. My father, James Metterick, was a sizing boiler, and that night he had been out collecting money, and it was late when he came home. Some time about midnight he awoke us and told us that the flood was coming. I jumped up, and after looking out of the window, pulled a pair of trousers on, and came down stairs. I met my mother at the bottom of the steps, and we thought to get a child which was sleeping in the kitchen, but we could not, and we called of my father to come upstairs. The water was rushing in at this time, and before my father could come to us he was smothered. We had intended to escape by the door, but a “roll” of water came down and forced us back, and my mother and I ran up into the chamber, and looked out of the window. At this time the water was the height of the wall in the street, and immediately afterwards the house fell, carrying eight of us who were in the room, and one in another chamber asleep, into the river. My brother Wilson Metterick had made his escape before the flood came down. I do not remember being struck with anything, and when I recovered myself I was in Harpin’s dam, amongst a lot of wood. I caught hold of something, when I was struck by a piece of wreck, and lost my hold. I continued seizing hold of the wreck, and at last I succeeded in getting hold of a large piece of timber. I got my legs across it, when it rolled over, and I was again thrown into the water. On recovering myself I got my legs across it a second time, but it again rolled over, and left me to struggle with the water. I succeeded in recovering my hold of it a third time, when I placed one leg over it, and clasped it with my hands to my breast, and thus kept myself secure for a time, after which I seized a piece of wood, and paddled myself, with the aid of the wind, to the opposite side, or left bank of the river. When near to the side I leaped off, and fell up to my neck in water. Again, I had to struggle with the stream, but at last I escaped, and ran up the field, stumbling every now and then, until I got here (Mrs. Berry’s, who occupies a house near to the mill), I believe nobody’s door was opened but our’s and Charlesworth’s, though I have heard it said the Marsden’s were up at the time.
[...] there were ten of us in our house — my father, step-mother, and eight children. Somebody came and roused us just after one o’clock. I put on my trousers : my step-mother and I stood on the stairs. We looked out of the windows, and saw a large quantity of water and slicks coming down. From their appearance we knew the reservoir had burst. I and my step-mother came down stairs, then stood on the stairs, and my father handed us the children who were asleep in the house for us to lift into the chamber. The water burst in at the window and through the door, filled the lower room and half filled the chamber. I ran with the rest into the garret, except my father and one child, who we expected were drowned in the house. About half a minute after we had got into the garret the whole house gave way and we were all swept down the stream, and I saw no more of any of them. No part of the house touched me that I know of. When I got into Harpen’s (Bottom’s) dam I caught hold of a piece of wood and sprang up. I got a good sob of breath, and then went under the water and lost my hold of the plank ; on coming up again, I got hold of another and again rolled over ; at last I got hold of a large piece of timber and kept my hold. I got hold of a small piece of wood and paddled it towards the side. A gush of wind then came and blew me towards the land on the Austonley side. I leaped off the timber and fell up to my neck in water, but I managed to scramble out of the water, and after falling several times I got into Hannah Berry’s, and stripped my trowsers and shirt (all I had on) and went to bed. I was nearly exhausted.
Although Mary Ann is listed as residing with her parents in the 1851 Census, it seems she also regularly stayed with her maternal grandparents, Eli and Nancy Hirst, and was possibly sleeping at their house on the night of the food.
Both Mary Ann Mettrick and her nephew Wilson were designated flood orphans, and both received 5 shillings per week until they reached the age of 16. It was reported that her grandparents were "unwilling to part with her".
She was was still residing with her then-widowed grandmother at the time of the 1861 Census and was working as a weaver.
It is assumed that she later married and was most probably the Mary Ann Mettrick who married John Woodhead in 1868 and who died aged 34 in 1880. If so, Mary Ann was his second wife and she gave birth to four children before her untimely death:
- Emma Woodhead (1868-1950?)
- Clara Ann Woodhead (1872-1940?)
- Albert Woodhead (1874-1885?)
- Ann Eliza Woodhead (1878-1955?)
Notes and References
- "Metterick's Statement" in Huddersfield Chronicle (14/Feb/1852) and "The Catastrophe at Holmfirth: One Hundred Lives Lost" in Morning Chronicle (07/Feb/1852).
- "The Holmfirth Flood" in Huddersfield Chronicle (22/May/1852).
- John Woodhead's first wife was Eliza Hirst (c.1830-1866).
- Born 9 December 1868.
- Born 15 November 1872.
- Born 12 October 1874.
- Born 8 July 1878.